


I Always Wondered What Happened in a Turkish Bath House

by afterdinnerminx



Series: Behind the Scenes One Shots (Prompts by Tumblr Re-Watch Discussion) [5]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 21:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4682360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterdinnerminx/pseuds/afterdinnerminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-shot describing the events happening after Jack opened the door to the steam room at the end of Cocaine Blues.  Just how did she manage to get from the steam room back to her hotel when she only started with a towel?</p>
<p>****************</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Always Wondered What Happened in a Turkish Bath House

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mewme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewme/gifts).



> This came about as a result of virtually re-watching Cocaine Blues last night via Tumblr. Super fun chat.
> 
> *****************

The door swung outward and Miss Fisher took the first breath of cool air she has had in over an hour.

"Glad you could make it, Inspector." She looks up at him, feeling grateful. "I'm a little more steamed up than I wanted to be."

Phryne could feel the rivulets of sweat dripping throughout the entirety of her body. Usually, when she was overheated, it was entirely different circumstances. She looks out at the pair of handsome men in front of her and of the towel-less-wonder face down on a bench behind her. 

Well, not entirely different circumstances.

"I always wondered what happened in a...turkish bathhouse." The inspector glanced behind her.

He also wondered just how to handle the next step in a discussion with a woman who happened to be on her knees and dressed in just a towel. When the woman was...well, ahem. She was definitely not going to get a rise out of him. Well, not a rise...he was simply not going to cooperate with her.

Detective Inspector Jack Robinson moved out of the doorway to allow Miss Phryne Fisher to stand up (without his assistance) and walk out of the steam room on her own accord.

"Sasha - we are leaving. Get up." The dancer she had been held captive with slowly roused. He looked around the room for the towel that he was sure had been wrapped around his waist. 

Phryne looked around the room outside of the sauna, hoping to get a glimpse of her clothes. She didn't see them anywhere. Lydia Andrews must have had her minions take her clothing with them. Shame, she was quite fond of that blouse. It brought out her eyes.

Between the dancer and the lady, the former looked far more uncomfortable about being covered in just a towel than she did. But, it was her that needed to put on clothing if he and his team were to leave this facility with any propriety.

"Foster, please give Miss Fisher your uniform jacket." The constable removed his jacked with perfunctory movements . He handed it to Miss Fisher, who with a light touch of her index finger unwrapped the towel to start dabbing more of the sweat pouring off her body. She graciously accepted Foster's jacket and put her arms in the sleeves.

She turned away from them and started wafting the jacket sides about herself in an effort to circulate some air around her and cool down. She thought she had been doing so with some modesty, hence her turning to the side. The three shocked faces she saw when she glimpsed over her shoulder told her otherwise.

The three men were mesmerized by the changes shown in her body brought about by this action. Each swish of the jacket revealed a brief glance of her breast in profile. At her warmest, her breasts appeared springy, topped a plump nipple merely shades of pink relative to the surrounding flesh. Repeated gusts of wind brought the crinkling of her nipple into a dark red button. The soft, pliant tissue became firm. This very act was an imitation of climax as it occurred during intimate situations with respective spouses and lovers. Even Sasha, who had personal experience with this particular anatomy was no less immune this effect.

This wasn't the only problem. The jacket was also raising and lowering in accord with her action. The hem with each sweep of movement revealed curves that would be covered even when wearing a shamelessly indecent set of undergarments. No, she could not *just* wear that jacket out of here.

The inspector looked about and realized that the only item of clothing that could suitably cover her was his own overcoat. He reluctantly shrugged off his overcoat. He extended for her to take and put around her, presumably over the jacket Foster had already lent to her. 

She had other ideas.

No, she had the gall to let Foster's jacket slide off of her before she brazenly walked over, handed the jacket back to Foster and placed herself with her back to the inspector as if inviting him hold his overcoat open for her so that she could slide her arms into it.

Fine. Time was of the essence.

The inspectors lips pursed. He seemed more than annoyed; he looked downright sore at her. He tilted his head toward his constable to indicate that they needed to leave the premises and the three others followed. Sasha de Lisse grabbed the second towel to put around his shoulders.

They were about to exist the building onto the street. The inspector looked down at Miss Fisher's feet. He made eye contact to Foster. "Please make sure Miss Fisher can get to the car without injury to her feet, Foster."

The constable considered his options for a moment, screwed up his lips and decided to go with a fireman's lift. 

"Ooh, well this is unexpected!" The DI clearly felt that her giggle in response to this situation was absurd.

The cars were loaded up - this time with 2 additional people. The DI's car went to the station and the other car went to try to find Lydia Andrews.

Sasha de Lisse clearly knew nothing so he was taken home fairly quickly. Miss Fisher, on the other hand, seemed to have more background. If they were to prosecute effectively, Inspector Robinson needed to get as much information as possible. He took her to the interview room to take her statement personally.

"I knew there was something wrong right away when Lydia kept declaring her love for John Andrews. I hadn't met him yet but even I knew he was a cad. Just figured it had something to do with marital delusion."

She didn't miss the faint grimace flash over her interrogator's face. 

"Then, there was the thing about the tea. That really bothered me. Lydia never took sugar in her tea. So, how was it that she became poisoned by it? And only a mild dose? She must have taken just enough to remove suspicion from herself."

He knew the chairs in the interview room were not comfortable. Nevertheless, he didn't feel it was completely necessary for her to be squirming about as much as she was doing. In his overcoat, nonetheless.

"Did she tell you have no head for figures?" She looked pointedly at the inspector. "She raised thousands of pounds for the hospital. The event that night was to do exactly that. She most definitely did have a good head for business."

There was a knock on the door of the interview room. Constable Collins poked his head in and said that they had recovered her clothes. He wanted to know if they had to go into evidence or whether he could return them.

Normally, they should go into evidence but given that the woman in front of him was currently sartorially challenged, he could make an exception. "She can have them back." His intent was that they would finish their discussion and she would change in the ladies room.

"Oh, thank you!" She gave a look of thanks to the constable. She grabbed her clothes and started looking through them as she continued speaking about all of her observations throughout the past day or so. He felt his stomach drop to the floor when she straightened one of her stockings and started pulling it up one leg. He felt his hand pinch the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. Miss Fisher continued to divulge her knowledge in a steady and bubbling stream of noise. He could hear the snap of her garter belt being put into place and the softer sounds of the stays being reattached.

He hazarded to look at the wall in front of him. The image of her standing with his overcoat completely open wearing only stockings and a garter belt etched in his memory faster than he could close his eyes again. 

"And then there were all the other suspects that just didn't seem to fit. There was the maid Alice, who helped in delivering your other case to you wrapped in brown paper and string, Inspector. She had a glowing reference but the excuse for her leaving didn't make any sense. Then, the way that Miss Williams was so quickly offered up to you."

He could feel her searching for his eyes now. "How quickly did you realize that Miss Williams didn't have it in her to commit murder, Inspector?"

He kept his eyes closed with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "That is confidential police business, Miss Fisher."

He heard the rest of her clothes being returned to her body and felt safe in opening his eyes once again. He let his eyes drift to the table, where her camisole and other undergarments remained piled up. His eyes glanced up at her without his permission. Her blouse is semi transparent. His mouth waters. Another vision he will try to forget as quickly as possible.

They finished the interview and she waited in the main office while it was typed up. He looked through his open office door to see her review her statement and sign it. He had arranged for one of his constables to drive her back to the hotel she was staying. Before she left, she came back into his office. She walked over to where his coat was hanging.

"Inspector, would you like me to get this cleaned for you?"

He knew what to expect if he raised his eyes now so he made a deliberate attempt to look straight into her eyes. 

"It is likely a little soiled due to the fact that I was still a bit wet when I put it on earlier. And, it was really very chivalrous of you to clothe me under such delicate circumstances."

The sooner he would be rid of this woman, her antics and her lack of propriety, the sooner he could get back to normalcy. He gave her a flat smile. "No, Miss Fisher. It isn't a problem at all. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

She fanned her fingers at him and wished him a good night.

It wasn't long before they found themselves and another crime scene. Then another. And another. He hoped she didn't figure out how long it actually took him to get his overcoat cleaned.


End file.
